


ship talks

by caescollection



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Critical Role Owns My Ass, Developing Friendships, Hurt/Comfort, fluffy ending i guess??, this is a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 03:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16987341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caescollection/pseuds/caescollection
Summary: jester and caleb have a small chat on the dock about being okay.they aren’t okay.





	ship talks

“I am going to bed.”  
“Caleb, come on, its too early-“  
“I said that I am going to bed.”  
Jester watches the the wizard start down the steps to his quarters, the wood creaking beneath his leather boots. She followed, a hand outstretched to him.  
“Are you okay, Caleb?”  
“Are you?”  
She stopped, but kept her tone even, trying to hide her obvious panic since the dragon attack.  
“I’m okay. Nothing a good sleep won’t fi-“  
Caleb cut her off, his state piercing, but not unkind.  
“Do not lie to me and I will not lie to you.”

Jester took a breath, shaking her head as she scratched at her bracers.   
“I’m...afraid. The Traveler was there to protect me, but I was scared.”  
“So you’re not okay.”  
“No...I mean, I am, but...“  
Caleb comes back up the stairs, bracing himself on the side of the ship. The air on the dock was cold and biting at his cheeks, reminding him all too much of his encounter with the dragon.  
Starting at his glassy reflection in the port water didn’t make him feel any better either, soot and an unkempt scruff of a beard really the only things he could see.  
Jester went to stand next to him, chin in her hands.   
“...Caleb, when will they stop pretending that they’re all okay?”  
He glanced to her, raising an eyebrow.  
“Perhaps when we will?”  
“But we can tell each other about it, like now! We’re friends, we talk, but they don’t.”  
Caleb mulled over the word ‘friends’ on his tongue for a moment. These were his friends, almost his family. They cared for him, they made sure they were all safe.  
So why did he have a hard time getting the words out of his throat?  
Why couldn’t he admit that these people all loved and cared for one another, himself included?   
He closed his eyes.  
He knew why.  
He did not deserve this. He did not deserve Jester’s concern or pity or...whatever this was, no matter how well intentioned.

Jester watched his face twitch and move. He went from scowling and trying to maintain a look of indifference as he stared out at the sea, but Jester saw his lower lip wobble for just a moment.  
She came closer, a hand on his arm gently as to not scare him.

“...Caleb, I-I won’t tell anyone if you want to sit up on the roost and cry.”  
“I don’t need to c-“  
“I wanna cry too,” she blurted out, the words tumbling out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. “I get scared and upset and frustrated too. I-I know you’re not happy and no one is happy, and we’re all just surviving from fight to fight, and I want to cry too.”  
The two were silent for a moment, staring at anywhere but each other.  
It was almost deafening, both of them waiting with bated breath for the other to speak.  
Finally, the quiet was broken by Caleb softly saying something in Zemnian before rubbing his eyes and looking to Jester with a sad expression.  
“Are you sure you want to waste that softness on me, friend?”  
Jester just smiled, fangs peeking out from behind blue lips. “Kindness doesn’t run out, silly. Don’t be dumb.”

Reluctantly, Caleb leans into her muscled shoulder, letting his own relax. He takes a breath, looks down, and lets tears that he’d been holding for months fly down his cheeks like rainfall.  
Jester holds his hand and closes her eyes, casting a quick heal on his bruised and cut hands, the faint glow lighting up parts of his face, his cheekbones. His tears seem to glow.  
The cleric cries too, softly and into her sleeve, just holding Caleb’s hand. Its sweaty and cold and much bigger than hers, but he’s a friend.   
He could use more friends.


End file.
